Chapter 14

The room was still dark and quiet the next morning, when a tickle on my cheek woke me. Debbie and I had found our way into the bed by way of the shower the night before. After the furious rush of our first release, we made soft, slow love before dropping off to sleep.

Another tickle.

I think it's the little things that mean "love." Debbie was curled up, mostly on top of me, hugging me close while sleeping. Her soft, relaxed face was pressed tight to mine, and the tickle was her eyelash flicking up and down as she dreamed.

I felt a wave of tenderness wash over me, and I held Debbie even closer. I must have lay there twenty or thirty minutes before deciding to start my day. I slowly wiggled out from under Debbie, and eased out of bed. I pulled blankets up to cover her and keep her warm, and slipped into my jeans and a sweatshirt, to keep me warm.

Our room's window faced east, so while the coffee was perking, and I pulled out some books, mostly I watched night turn to dawn.

Our first classes weren't for a few more hours; so, sipping coffee, I cracked a math text, and started thinking. Around eight, I heard Debbie stir and the shower start. By eight-thirty, she was in her jeans and on my lap.

"Good morning, lover," Debbie said with a kiss.

"Hey, Valentine. Sleep well?"

"Until my teddy bear got up. What were you doing up in the middle of the night?" she asked.

"It was after five, it was morning. I wanted to watch the sun rise," I told her.

Debbie poked my textbook. "What's this?"

"Mostly busy work," I admitted. "But I have a test tomorrow, so I wanted to review."

Debbie shook her head. "Michael, you aren't supposed to bring school work on a romantic getaway!" She giggled.

I kissed her. "I brought your books, too," I said.

"As if! Let's go for breakfast, and see about heading home."

February's cold and ice turned into March's snow and the promise of spring. It wasn't much of a promise, as it really snowed a lot in March. Classes were cancelled three times, and the library lost power two other days.

And it was windy. Wind in Laramie is like the waves on a beach... sometimes small and light, other times big and heavy, but always there. When that wind pushes a twenty-inch snowfall, you get the kind of drifts that make the news.

Debbie and I used body heat to keep warm. It seemed like the thing to do.

Late in the week, after Saint Valentine's Day, I met with Barb and Dr. Johnson to discuss my future in mathematics. I brought Mom with me.

The four of us sat down at a small table in Dr. Johnson's office. Barb had a notebook, and Dr. Johnson appeared to have my printed solution along with some other stuff in front of him.

"Thanks for coming in, Mr. Wilson, Dr. Wilson," Dr. Johnson said. "I've reviewed your work here," he tapped the paper stack, "and must say I agree with Dr. Alexander, that it is exceptional."

I blushed. "Uh. Thank you, sir," I said.

"Can you bring me into the loop?" Mom asked.

Barb looked at me. I suppose I should have told Mom more. Barb briefly explained the problem she set for me — and my convoluted, lengthy answer.

"But it's good?" Mom asked.

Dr. Johnson laughed. "Yes, Dr. Wilson. It is extremely good — and very rare here in Laramie."

Mom raised her eyebrows. "Most kids with his intuitive skill set end up at schools with greater reputations," Dr. Johnson explained. "We're a great school in many ways. And, I'd like to think, we do a very good job in the Math department. But we're not Princeton, or Cal Tech, or even MIT."

"Should Michael be at someplace like MIT?" Mom asked. Bless her.

Barb and Dr. Johnson looked at each other. Barb shrugged and Dr. Johnson answered. "Dr. Alexander and I have discussed this, and I'd have to say that, all things being equal, we think we have a program for him that will make his education here the equal of any he could receive anywhere — and maybe even superior."

"What do you have in mind?" Mom asked. I was looking from face to face, and feeling more than a little shock.

"Basically," Barb said, "advanced standing, access to graduate level classes as soon as next year, and a directed course of independent study under Dr. Johnson and me."

Wow.

"That seems like a lot," Mom said. "Particularly considering he's only solved the one problem?" She let the question dangle.

Mom! Dammit!

Barb looked at Dr. Johnson before responding. "Toni. Uh," she blushed. "Dr. Wilson." We all chuckled. "Look, Toni, I faxed Michael's solution, here, to my thesis advisor at Cal Tech; and he offered Michael a full scholarship without any further question." Barb looked at me. "He wants to publish it as an example of brains over technique..."

Publish? Brains?

"We need to talk about this," Mom said. "What's best for Michael?"

"I guess that's up to him," Dr. Johnson said. "If he wants the education, I think he'll get the best possible one here, if he sticks with it. And I'll make the call myself to make sure he gets into any school he wants if he chooses to go farther than we can take him."

"But," Barb said, "if he wants a prestigious undergraduate degree... Cal Tech, MIT, Princeton, Illinois State... they're all there, and they'd all jump at him."

Wow.

"Michael and I will talk. Nothing will happen this term in any event," Mom said.

"Michael?" Barb asked. "Something?"

I smiled. "Uh. Could you avoid telling Debbie about any of this?" Debbie. "I need to think about what I'm doing... and I don't want to upset her."

Dr. Johnson looked confused, but Barb smiled. "Of course... but Michael?"

"Yes?"

"You might ask her about her course of study. I'm not saying anything, you understand?" I nodded. "Just ask."

"I will."

We said goodbye, and Mom and I excused ourselves.

"Jeeze, Michael," Mom said once we were in the hall. "You could have warned me!" She was smiling.

"I didn't know," I said honestly. "Really."

Mom put her arm around me. "I love you, and I'm proud. Really proud."

So was I.

That little blonde-haired, green-eyed, soft-spoken, cute little bitch.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"I'm sorry, Michael."

"So you're like a math genius, and you forgot to tell me?"

"I'm not a 'genius'," Debbie said. "It's just that with Mom..."

I put my head down, shaking it. I really should have paid more attention to what Debbie was taking in class. "You pretty much finished up your undergraduate math courses in High School?"

"Pretty much."

"And you're just polishing off the last of your 'general education' classes while tooling along about to complete your Master's?"

"Well... I have another semester in that," Debbie said.

"And you have a four-oh average?"

"Michael."

"You were going to tell me?" I asked.

"Michael. Of course I was."

"When?"

"Well... shit." Debbie got up, and went to the window to watch the snow. She spoke to the glass, "This sucks."

"What sucks?" I asked.

"Michael, every guy I've ever dated has eventually dumped me because they think I'm too smart, or too academic, or too some-sort-of-shit."

"So you figured if I thought you were smart, I'd dump you?"

Silence.

"Debbie?"

Silence.

"Deb?"

"Yes."

"Look at me, Debbie," I said.

She turned, keeping her distance.

"Do I look like I'm dumping you?"

She shook her head.

"Do you think I love you?"

A nod.

"Do you think you love me?"

Another nod.

"What if I'm not as smart as you?" I asked. "Can you handle that?"

"You are. You're really smart, Michael. It's different for me; I lived with a math professor — of course I got a head start. But you. You're really smart. That's one of the things I love about you."

"What if I'm smarter than you are?" I asked.

Debbie blinked. "Are you?"

I laughed. "I have no idea... and I don't care. Come here."

Debbie walked over and sat on my lap.

"I love you, Debbie."

"I love you, too, Math Geek."

I swatted her butt.

"I have a confession," I said.

"Do you? Got the hots for another girl?"

"Debbie!"

"Not a guy? Michael!"

"Stop it!" I said. "No. No 'hots' for anybody but you — girl or boy."

"Well?"

"This is embarrassing. It's your mom."

"You have the hots for my mom?" Debbie was laughing.

I swatted her butt again. "No. Your mom and Dr. Johnson, and me and Mom met a couple of days ago..." (I know. I know. 'Mom and I.' But that's what I said.)

Debbie's eyebrows arched. "Yes?"

"And. Well..." I gave her a synopsis of the meeting.

I had tried to figure out what kind of reaction I'd get. I was wrong. Debbie laughed.

And laughed.

"I'm right!" she said when she caught her breath. "You ARE a math geek!"

"Put on your student advisor hat, lover girl," I said. "What should I do?"

"Oh no, you don't!" Debbie said lightly — but her eyes told me she was serious. "Don't you try to make me decide your future!"

"Okay, Okay," I said. "Mom and I are going to talk about it... but I listened to your mom and Dr. Johnson pretty closely, and I'm thinking I'll be best off if I..." I trailed off, teasing.

"You know, Michael," Debbie said, when it became apparent I wasn't going to say anything more. "This slightly skewed sense of humor you're inflicting on me, needs a bit of work before it is actually funny. Do you know what I mean?"

"I think I want—" I absolutely could not believe it was about to come out of my mouth. "—to stay in Laramie, at least for now."

"You'll make the right choice," Debbie told me. She stood up, and excused herself to the bathroom.